


Once Upon a Southern Night

by Gongjunim_Jay



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mentions of slavery and The Confederacy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gongjunim_Jay/pseuds/Gongjunim_Jay
Summary: Y/N Robynson has just arrived with her mother in Forks, Washington. Her mother is a surgeon who works at the local hospital, and she is the new junior at Forks High School. What she doesn't know is that she has uncanny connection to the Cullen family--and even more so--to Jasper Hale.The only problem is, Jasper isn't the only one wants to be with Y/N. There's another person.Some distant stranger they both used to know from 1863.
Relationships: Jasper Hale x Reader - Relationship, Jasper Hale/Original Female Character(s), Jasper Hale/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	1. Not so bad after all

“You look lovely, Y/N, why don’t you try to be more optimistic?”

You looked up at your mother’s hopeful features. Carmine Robynson was an exceptional surgeon with national and international awards in her field. She was also the most beautiful woman you’d ever see. Her skin was a glittering porcelain white, and she had pale pink lips and caramel-colored eyes that seemed to change color every now and again. Today, her long blonde hair was pinned up in a bun—perfect for a long day at her new job at the hospital.

“I’m trying to be, mom,” you whined as she ran her fingers through your hair, bringing your curls to life. “But I’m so worried. I’ve barely ventured outside the state of Alabama, how am I supposed to fit in with people from Washington State?”

Carmine rolled her eyes. “How do you think I felt when I traveled all the way from England to the States? It was terrifying, dear. Much more terrifying than you moving to a new state. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

You grabbed her things, and she locked down the house. The new house was Victorian style, like one of the houses you see in the movies. You and your mom spent months picking out the perfect furniture and decor to make your new residence come to life. It was one of the positives about the move.

In the driveway, the car hummed quietly. It was a sleek silver Mercedes, perks of a surgeon salary. You climbed in and slumped in the seat.

The drive to the school was fairly pleasant. The long, winding road was flanked on either side by towering jade green trees that cast blue shadows on the ground. The sky, as it had always been since your arrival, was gray and overcast. It was quite a difference from your sunny home back south. 

The school was small, just about the size of your old school. Except for this time, it was even. . .less diverse than back home. At your old school, you were normally the only black girl in most of your classes. However, there were still others in your school that made you feel less isolated. But here, everybody was white as a wedding gown, and it made you nervous. Growing up with a white mother, you’d think you wouldn’t have that issue. But if anything, your experience as an adopted black kid made it quite clear what it was like to feel different from everyone—from black and white kids alike.

“Love you. Have a good day,” she said with a kiss to your forehead.

You climbed out of the car and immediately shivered from the morning air. It was September, and already it felt like winter. Sixty degrees back at home was December weather.

Your first class was homeroom. The teacher, Mrs, Bobbins, made you introduce yourself to the class. Everyone was very interested in the new girl on campus—the new girl who also happened to be the only black girl in class. This interaction did lessen your nerves some, but you were still anxious to get the day over with.

Second period was Advanced Chemistry. Honestly speaking, you hated the first Chemistry. But as a part of your advanced trek, you had no choice but to take the class. It wasn’t that difficult—not when you had a full-on surgeon to help you out living in the house—but still, it was not your favorite subject by a long shot.

The space between the second and third period was strange. The school was allowed to have “break”—a period of time where the staff and students alike could chill for fifteen minutes and do whatever they wanted. 

Not knowing where to go or who to talk to, you stumbled to the canopied walkway on the side of the building. Here, there were fewer students. However, at the end of the walkway by the blue double doors, a group of gorgeous looking teenagers stood conversing quietly amongst themselves.

“Hello, Y/N, isn’t it?” called a voice beside you. It was a curly-head ginger girl with the prettiest ice blue eyes and freckled skin. She was very tall and wore athletic tights and a long volleyball shirt with the school’s Spartan mascot.

“Oh, yes. It’s me,” you said, pushing up your thin-rimmed glasses. “I’m sorry, but what’s your name?”

“Amelia Bloom. You probably didn’t notice me, but I’m in your homeroom. You’re a new student, aren’t you? Your mom is Dr. Robynson that was just hired at the hospital?”

You were impressed by how much she knew. It always took time for people to figure out that Camille was your mother. And you thought Satsuma, the town you came from, was small. But Forks hit a whole new level of “everyone knows one another.”

“Yeah, we just moved here. Sorry if I seem a little antsy or what have you. I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.” You offered your hand. “I hope we can be friends, though.”

You swore you saw the blond hair boy of the group flinch. But just as quickly as she glanced at him, you saw he had never even moved. Great. Now your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Those are the Cullens,” Amelia explained, judging you wanted an answer by the spooked expression on your face. “The most coveted teens in all of Forks. They were adopted by Dr. Carlisle and his wife Esme, who are both pretty young themselves. Don’t try to make friends with them though, they’re pretty stuck up.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed by that, though it was quickly replaced with a wave of optimism. 

“Well, I don’t like to judge people before I meet them, but I won’t bother them then if that’s the case.”

The bell rang loudly just then, and Amelia showed you to your next class.

Interestingly enough, your next class was history, and in it was three of the Cullen siblings. You wanted to sit near the front of the class like you always did (on the account of your poor vision), but lamented to find that the seats were assigned. Confused and anxious to blend in, you turned to the teacher for help.

“Ah, Ms. Robynson. Lovely of you to join us today,” said the man, who informed his name was Mr. Howard. “You can take the empty seat by Jasper. Jasper, please raise your hand.”

To your surprise, the blond Cullen boy lifted his hand in the air. Just then, all of the confidence left your body. You were intimidated by utterly attractive he looked—like a daffodil in a field of weeds.

You slowly walked to your seat, which he had already pulled out. Oh God, you thought. You would have to sit by him. You would be within a foot of his presence, and you’d have to act like everything was fine.

You brushed your skirt down as you took your seat and pulled out your notebook. Already, the lavender covered book had been used. However, you loved history and couldn’t bear to throw away your pretty notes from the beginning of your old class.

The first page you turned to was marked in postage stamps from the antebellum period. You had a picture of the Oakleigh Plantation Mansion from Mobile, one of your favorite southern pieces of history.

“Okay class, it’s going to be a sensitive unit, but we are moving on to the Pre-Civil era, also known as the Antebellum Era. It’s important to know the important parts President Andrew Jackson and James Buchanan played in shaping the tensions and economic standings that inevitably led to the Civil War. So for your bellringer, you’re going to be listing some factors that led to these said tensions. You have five minutes. Begin.”

You turned to a fresh sheet of paper and took out your calligraphy pens. 

Factors that led to Pre-Civil War Tensions:

Jackson left the country in an economic depression by his withdrawal of federal funds from the National Bank in 1832, thus causing the Panic of 1837 which heavily impacted cotton exports and revenue for the Southern economy.

The expansion West caused an imbalance of power between states which made Southern states feel they had no authority in the federal government. It was an intense competition between slave states and free states.

Events such as Bleeding Kansas, Harper’s Ferry, and the Dred-Scott Supreme Court ruling caused many across the nation to become angered.

“Does anybody have any ideas?” Mr. Howard asked.

The class was silent, and you realized it was much different from what you were used to. Where you were from, everybody knew about the Civil War—no matter how skewed or racist their beliefs were.

Beside you, Jasper raised his hand. 

“Yes, Mr. Hale.”

“James Buchanan did virtually nothing to stop the wave of seceding Southern states, and although he believed secession was wrong, he didn’t believe he had the Constitutional power to stop them. Had he quelled the fears of the slave states, the war could have been prolonged another few years.”

“Right, as always, Mr. Hale. Would anyone else like to attempt?”

“May I?” 

Mr. Howard looked at you excitedly. “Of course. Have a go, Ms. Robynson.”

“The Southern states believed that they had done nothing Constitutionally wrong. According to them, they’d only joined the Union in the first place due to the Fugitive Clause added to the Constitution for the sake of the Southern states voting on the new Constitution after the Articles of Confederation. Because Northern states violated this clause, they felt that they were breaking the so-called “contract”, and that only they, as independent states, had the power to decide if their end of the bargain was being upheld. Even though the Fugitive Clause was not a part of the immediate Pre-Civil War Era, I feel it’s the most important aspect to mention when evaluating the factors that led to the war.”

Mr. Howard clapped loudly, waking up the rest of the class. “An amazing answer. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, without further ado, let us begin today’s lesson.”

Beside you, the Cullen boy shifted. “Not bad,” he murmured before gazing back forward.

Your heart leapt within you.

That night, your mom arrived home at seven. You had already eaten, knowing your mom only ate late at night. She was a strict dietist and pretty much only drank the tea concoctions from her thermal cup. But you were an avid omnivore and didn’t mind eating without her.

“How was your first day at school?” she asked, setting her things down on the couch.

“It was better than I honestly expected. I even met a new friend. Her name is Amelia, and she’s the captain of the varsity volleyball team and even plays softball and golf.”

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “See, I told you everything would be fine. How’s history?”

“Mr. Howard seems to know what he’s talking about. Not nearly as biased as Mr. Davis was, but very sympathetic to the North.”

“I guess now that you’re up here, you won’t have to worry about an abundant amount of hot-head racists. But if something does happen—”

“I know, Mom. I know.”

You dressed in your silk nightgown and headed for bed. On the middle shelf of your bookcase was a model of the Oakleigh Mansion. You didn’t know what it was about it, but the antebellum era intrigued you. And this house in particular. . .

You turned on the lights inside the little house and turned off the lamp. Now it was dark in your room except for the tiny chandelier lights glittering inside the white home. 

Sighing, you turned on your side. The curtains fluttered in the light breeze from your slightly open window. This gorgeous house and quaint little town was your home. You’d have to come to accept the changes—which were not all bad. You miss your friends, you missed the warmth and sunshine, but the world was not over.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d have the opportunity to see Jasper Hale more often.


	2. Adopted Cousins

The following week of school was quite exciting. People from all over the school were interested in your story. Amelia had gotten you acquainted with her friends—jocks, nonetheless—but they were fairly easy to get along with and you weren’t the type to stereotype.

History was even better. You could really flex your skills in your class, and not feel worried that you’d be rebuked. And Pre-Calculus and Chemistry weren’t even as hard as you originally thought it would be. All in all, things were great. 

Since your first day, you hadn’t spoken to Jasper or any of the Cullens once. Sometimes you thought the tiny one, Alice, would smile at you behind your back as if she knew some big secret you didn’t. But she didn’t intimidate you, and neither did the others. Rosalie did seem a little off, but you figured that it had to do with the ridiculous number of boys confessing to her every week. And as for the others—Emmett and Edward—they seemed pretty normal. Though sometimes you wondered why Edward seemed to be so annoyed all the time, or why whenever you passed by him in the hallway, he unexplainably smirked from ear to ear.

One day, however, you had to sit at Amelia’s table without her. There was David, Mallory, Tyler, and Sarah. They were all the best athletes in the junior class, and you lowkey felt out of place being the only one at the table who didn’t play a sport.

“How was Psychology?” Mallory asked, digging into her leafy salad. She was a broad shoulder girl, whose athletic frame was large and unlike the “skinny-fit” girls you saw on tv. 

You nodded. “Pretty good. We learned a lot about the brain and its association with fear.”

You began stirring your gumbo. Since you were a kid, you never liked eating school lunches anyway. And in addition to that, you obligated your mom and yourself to prepare only southern style dishes to remind you of home.

“Hey, Y/N,” David called, nudging your shoulder. “Do you think you could help me with math? All of this theta, alpha—whatever this shit is—it’s giving me a headache. Could I maybe come by your place tonight and get some help?”

You smiled hesitantly. You didn’t mind helping him, but you weren’t exactly about to let some boy you hardly talked to come to your house without your mother’s foreknowledge. Besides, what was wrong with tutoring on campus?

“We can do it at the school library,” you suggested. “Make sure you bring your things though. You’ll need your calculator, a pencil, and some paper.”

He grumbled lowly to himself, but you thought it best not to inquire after him. Instead, you continued sipping at your food. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement at the Cullen table. 

At the end of the day, you walked to your locker and grabbed your things. The thing about Forks High School was that everybody seemed to automatically shift to their cars, in a race to leave out onto the empty streets of the town. 

You made your way to the parking lot to drop some of the things off at your car—the brand new pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle your mom bought for your sixteenth birthday. It’d arrived in Washington State on campus just an hour before you had to leave your first day of school.

You turned around and began heading towards the school. . .but where to go? You forgot where the library even was. Was it nearest to the front entrance or the side? You decided to go to the side, not knowing that the ramifications of your actions would forever change your life.

“Y/N!” a voice called, and you whirled around on your Oxford heels, thankful it was only David leaning on the brick wall behind you.

“Ah, David! I must’ve been going the wrong way, wasn’t I? I bet it’s better to go to the front entrance. Well, we’re here now. Might as well keep going,” you giggled anxiously.

You reached your hand for the door handle, only to have your hand forcefully snatched in the grasp of his.

“We don’t have to do it in the library,” he said quietly, a sinister grin on his face. “We could do it in your car, inside the bathroom, if you’d like.” He leaned in closer. “Or we could do it right here.”

You tried to politely pull your hand from his only to realize that he was not talking about tutoring. He grabbed your shoulder and pushed you against the cold door, the backs of your thighs touching the metal. You struggled to push him off, but he was much stronger. 

“I’m serious, David! This is not what you want! You’ll get in serious trouble, and I don’t give you consent or permission to touch me like this in any way!”

He smiled down at you. “Touch you. . .like this?” His fingers crawled down the sides of your skirt until they ripped down the material to the concrete.

You screamed, but suddenly he was gone. Jasper had him pinned up against the opposite wall, David’s feet dangling inches from the group. 

“I will fucking kill you,” he said angrily. “If you ever touch her again. If you even look at her, I will personally rip your throat from your insides and make you wish you were never born.”

David nodded hysterically, his features contorted in terror. “Anything you want, man! Please—I won’t ever do it again. Just please put me down, please!”

Edward and Emmett appeared by Jasper’s side and forcibly lowered the quarterback from the wall. Emmett locked him in a chokehold and pushed him forward while Edward made a barrier of himself so that Jasper could not pursue.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked frantically, her golden eyes staring into yours. Rosalie pulled your skirt back up around your hips, but the cloth was ripped at the zipper and couldn’t be reattached. Tears were streaming down at your eyes at that point, but you nodded, too lost for words to reply. 

“She needs some new clothes,” Rosalie warned, guarding your vulnerable form with her body. You stared at your pathetic skirt. It was a cute little plaid design you found while shopping at a thrift store in Port Angeles on your way from the airport.

Jasper took the leather jacket from his shoulders and handed it to his sister carefully. She tied the thing around your waist on top of the skirt so that it held it together. Then, they led you to the office.

Within three minutes, a squad car showed up. It was the police Chief, Charlie Swan, a man with a thick black mustache and chocolate dark eyes. He took one look at David before hauling him in handcuffs.

“This is the second complaint we’ve had against you this month,” he announced through gritted teeth. “Except this time, we’ve got witnesses. You had such promise kid, but all you want to be is a sex offender.”

David cried in protest before he was thrown in the back of the car. 

“Are you alright?” the Chief asked. “You’ll have to come by the station for questioning and a full police report. . .do you think you’re in an okay mental state to do so?”

You nodded. “But can I go home first? He broke my skirt.”

He reflexively looked at your waist which resulted in Jasper hawking him down. 

“Of course. And if possible, bring the skirt back with you in a plastic bag. It’s evidence.”

The siblings escorted you to your car, where, interestingly enough, a crowd had formed.

“Thanks, you guys, I don’t think things would’ve turned out as fortunate as they did if not for y’all.” You looked up at Jasper’s warm honey eyes. “And I thank you most of all, Jasper. You turned out to be my savior tonight.”

He gazed back at you, and you felt a flood of emotions you couldn’t explain. 

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, “And you’re welcome.”

“Do you need someone to drive you home?” Alice asked, her hands squeezing yours. “Besides, we all have to come to the station anyway. I can ride with you.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t trouble you—”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive the boys to the station while you and Alice run home,” Rosalie said, pointing to her beaming red BMW. 

You weren’t surprised that when you arrived at the station your mother was there. She immediately pulled you into her arms, her crushing embrace enough to suck the air out of you. 

“My baby!” she cried, holding your cheeks. “What would I do if something ever happened to you! I should’ve put you in those jujitsu classes like you asked last year. I’m so sorry I put you in this terrible situation!”

You shook your head and pried her off of you. “Mom, Mom! It’s okay, I’m alright. Jasper and his siblings handled the situation just fine. Please calm down.”

Beside her, you realized Dr. Cullen and his wife stood by their children. They appeared to be such a charming family, but it was strange how they all had the same amber-colored eyes though they were not all related.

“Jasper, I should reward you handsomely for this! That’s it, I’m ending my shift early. You all can come to our house . . .it’s about time we tell the news to Y/N anyway.”

“Y/N,” Dr. Cullen said, extending his hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

‘Finally,’ you wondered. “And you as well. Mom talks about you quite a bit at home.”

Esme hugged your shoulders just as tightly as your mother did. She smelled very good, like warm citrus and berries. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. If you ever need to talk, we’re here for you.”

You finished the police report, and everybody climbed in their cars headed home. What news your mother had in store for you, you had no idea. But no matter how much you begged her to tell you, she wouldn’t tell you. 

Your mom ordered pizza—a meal just for you since the Cullens declined and she wasn’t going to eat anyhow—and you sat quietly at the dining room table. It was all so awkward considering you were the only one eating and since it had not been long since you were literally assaulted. 

Jasper sat quietly at the other end of the table, his eyes trained on the vase of flowers on the center of the table. You really wanted to tell him your appreciation in private, but since your departure at the car, he had not made eye contact with you.

They made conversation quietly, but it all felt like a meaningless hum in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps they were waiting on you to say something first.

“So. . .what is it that you wanted to tell me?” you asked your mom, biting the inside of your cheek. You hoped it wasn’t anything bad, you weren't sure if you could handle anything else.

Your mom smiled reassuringly. “I know you’re probably freaking out, but I promise, it’s nothing to worry about. You know how you’ve always wanted to have siblings or cousins of your own?”

You gasped, rising from your chair. “Are you finally adopting again!”

Everybody at the table laughed. She shook her head.

“No, even better. The truth is, I actually have a family you’ve never met before.”

Your brows scrunched together. “Really? Who are they? And I mean, why haven’t we ever met them?”

She sighed. “Well, the reason is quite complicated. I’ll tell you about that later. But the thing is—Carlisle is my younger brother.”

“Wait what?!” you shouted. “He’s your what?!”

“That’s right,” he grinned, “Carmine’s my sister. So I guess, in a way, that makes me your uncle.”

“Wow,” you breathed, “So you’re my adoptive mom’s brother who has adopted kids who are my adopted cousins.”

Everybody again laughed at your reaction. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment, but for some reason, you didn’t seem as tense as you were before. You got up to hug all of the Cullens—your new family. You finally had people and loved ones to call your own; people you could trust and stood up for you when you couldn’t stand up for yourself.

When you finally got to Jasper, your heart rate soared. How lucky you were to have such an intelligent, kind, and strong person in your life! But secretly, there was a twinge of regret inside you. This feeling you felt for him—it was a crush. Cousins weren’t allowed to have crushes on each other.

“Something the matter?” he teased with a little smirk.

“Of course not I—”

He gently wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close. He was cold and firm like a giant teddy bear left untouched on a bed. You wanted to hold him tighter and transfer your warmth to him, but just as quickly as you had the thought, the hug finished.

“We have so much to talk about!” Alice exclaimed. “You’re into the vintage aesthetics, aren’t you? There’s a lovely red dress I’ve been saving in my closet specifically for you!”

And with that, Rosalie and Alice whisked you away upstairs where you three began a wonderful, life-long friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to try to update every other day. I have a couple of chapters pre-written, and a pretty good idea of how long I want the story to be and where it's going. I promise, in the next chapter, things speed up EXPONENTIALLY at the end ;)
> 
> Enjoy reading! >-<


	3. Something Old, Something New

The thing about change is that it’s just that—change. You can change something, twist it, mold it, or turn it into whatever you wish for it to look like, but you cannot ever get rid of its original identity. 

Living in Forks was no short of that. Life was a blessing, and your days were filled with laughter and excitement. Beginning your senior year—Jasper had graduated—but the two of you were dating and closer than you’d ever been. He took you on dates to see the stars and bought you flowers and little trinkets to brighten your day. You read books in his lap and went on double dates with Amelia and her boyfriend, Stuart. 

You knew something was strange about your family—so much so that your mother’s weirdness no longer seemed so personalized. Maybe it was the fact they never ate around you, or maybe it’s the account of their golden eyes. And like your mother (and everyone else, frankly), your boyfriend was so inhumanly cold, like a Roman statue left in an icy museum.

But what did you look like asking such crazy questions? After all, what else could it be but coincidence? As for your mom and Carlisle, they were siblings—it was normal for them to share the same traits. But as for the others—Rosalie and Jasper were twins—and although they were different personality-wise, they both had the same pale skin and bronze-colored eyes. Maybe the old saying is true: living together with someone really does make you look alike.

One day while your family all hung out at the Cullen house, you received a letter in the mail. It was a bright, shimmering white envelope with fancy lace trimming. You opened it carefully—sure not to cut yourself so as to not to trigger Jasper’s weird paranoia around blood. 

“Oh my god!” you shouted, running into the living room. You looked at your mom. “Ivy and Dale are getting hitched!”

“Wow, Ivy?” she said. “I remember the two of you growing up like it was yesterday. When’s the date?”

“March 5. It’s going to take place on Dale’s parents’ farm. The reception’s going to be in the big barn house!”

You whirled in excitement, only to dizzy yourself into Jasper’s arms when you realized you’d fallen. He brushed a stray curl from your face.

“A wedding?” he said. “I thought Ivy was only seventeen.”

“You can get married in Alabama at sixteen with parental consent. I’m sure the Lauderdales were thrilled to hear of the good news. Dale has been hanging ‘round since we were six.”

You popped back onto the floor. “I’ve gotta find a dress and everything! Oh wait—I should call and see if we’re doing matching dresses or if we’re all gonna be wearing different ones.”

You picked up your phone and raced to the kitchen where you could find some privacy and feel free to freak out some more. She picked up on the third ring.

“Ivy!” you cried, “I can’t believe it’s finally happening! Please send me a picture of the ring ASAP, okay?”

She giggled. “It’s not a big deal, Y/N. We’ve been engaged since we were twelve. It’s just that now we’ve got that ice and permission to prove it.”

The phone buzzed and you looked at the image of the triple diamond ring which had a band of diamonds all around. You recognized that ring. It was Dale’s grandmother’s sacred family heirloom, the one that’s been locked up tight in their security safe. He only let you and her see it once when you were both thirteen and his parents were out in the field.

“I’m so excited for the bachelorette party!” you gushed. “We’re going to have so much fun! We should go to Pensacola and go to one of them spa places and then we can—”

“Y/N,” she said quietly, cutting you off entirely. “You’re not on the bridesmaids' list.”

You were quiet, your flailing arms caught in mid-air. “I’m not. . .but you said—”

“I’m sorry, girl, but Mama already chose who's going to be in my wedding. There’s  
Charlotte, Mary, Clarabelle, and Lydia. . .the ones I grew up with.”

“But. . .what about me? Didn’t. . .didn’t we grow up together?”

“Yeah, but. . .it’s just not the same, you know? Those people are family. You can still come to the wedding, of course. That’s why I sent the invitation.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel hurt. Here was your best friend telling you that you couldn’t be in the wedding. Mrs. Lauderdale. . .you thought she really liked you. Was it because you moved up north?”

“Oh, alright then. I was just—just calling to confirm the date. March 5, right?”

“Yeah, March 5.”

You hung up the phone and sighed at the counter, your head hung down. Just then, Jasper came walking in. He came up behind you and held you in place, his head resting on your shoulder. Suddenly, your mood improved instantly. But that was the thing about Jasper—he was always brightening your day when you felt down. It was part of the reason you adored him.

“You okay?” he whispered. “You know you don’t got to go to that wedding?”

You shook your head. “Of course I do. It’s my best friend’s wedding. How could I miss her big day? Besides. . .how did you even know I was sad?”

He stiffened. “I. . .uh. . .heard the conversation in the hallway.”

“Oh, well I guess that makes sense.”

He held you for a while against the hard granite. 

“Jasper?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Will you be my date to the wedding?”

“Absolutely.”

Rosalie was the one officially in charge in helping you pick your dress. Alice had a vengeful streak and wanted you to wear a big, white gown that would take all the attention away from Ivy.

“It’s wayyyy too hot in the south for that,” you pleaded, “and I ain’t trying to cause no trouble! It’s her Mama who did it, not Ivy.”

“She should’ve overridden that stupid decision then,” Alice continued, braiding your hair. It was still funny to know that the tiny pixie girl knew how to do a full set of box braids. “If it was my wedding—”

“But it isn’t your wedding,” Rosalie insisted. “And Ivy isn’t your friend. Now like I was saying, Y/N, this little yellow sundress would look so cute with your skin tone. . .”

They even hooked up Jasper. They got him a nice cornflower blue dress shirt and a cream-colored suit. Emmett even put on a whole show of picking his hairstyle, and even though they went through all that progress and hard work, you kindly reminded them that a heatwave was coming the weekend of the wedding and that it was best just to leave his curls the way they were. Jasper did not take kindly to his brother after that.

“Why don’t you come with us?” you asked your mom as she helped you pack the last of your luggage. “It’s gonna be so lonely with just me and Jasper. And besides, I’m sure everybody wants to see you!”

“No, no, I can’t. I’m scheduled for surgery on the day of the wedding. I can’t cancel it either. It’s a cancerous tumor that needs to be removed.”

You sighed, sitting up on your bed. “I can’t believe it’s here. She’s getting married, mom. We’re all going to be adults and pretty soon if things go to according to plan, me and—” You cut yourself off as the overwhelming thought engulfed you.

“That’s right. You and Jasper will have your own wedding someday. . .speaking of which. . .we need to talk about the future.”

“The future?”

“Yes,” she sat on your bed. “There are some things you need to know before you set your eyes on your own big day. We’ll talk about that all soon, I promise. But as for now, go and enjoy yourself with Jasper. You’ll have him all to yourself. . .”

“Mom!” you shouted. “Jasper—he’s too sweet for that. He’s a real gentleman! It hasn’t even been that long ago since we had our first kiss, and he was scared to even do that!”

She raised her brows. “Hmmm, maybe that’s what he wanted you to think. But guys are never shy when it comes to that subject.”

The next day, your family wished you off at the airport. Jasper bought you first-class tickets—a feat you deemed both extravagant and unnecessary—and you slept on his shoulder for most of the way. 

Immediately, touching down in your home state, everything felt so different. It was humid and hot; the type of sticky that makes your hair stick to the back of your neck, and people were so much more cordial then they were back at Forks. Some gave Jasper strange looks as he wound his fingers with yours, but again, nobody was unpleasant.

You would be staying at a hotel about thirty miles out of the country. There were, thankfully, two queen-sized beds parallel to one another in the tiny room. But Jasper insisted sleeping in the living room part where a half wall separated the two of you.

On the big day, your boyfriend pulled out an authentic cowboy hat (the likes you’d never seen before), and the two of you headed down Ivy’s long dirt road. 

Fields of cotton and peas lined either side of the road, and for long stretches, there were no houses except the occasional large country home with animals and plots of cultivated land. The ditches teemed with life: jumping frogs, tadpoles, crawfish, and lilies. 

“Gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve been in the country,” he said. “This place isn’t much different from home.”

“Home? In Forks?”

“Rose and I—before we were adopted—used to live in Texas.”

“Really? That explains your accent! I just thought you watched too many western flicks. Oh, but why doesn’t Rosalie have one?”

“Well, she just hides it, I guess.”

You arrived at the house. There was a trail of cars already parked in the grassy yard, and people made their way in their finest Sunday’s best to the row of chairs arranged in front of the big oak tree where the minister stood.

“Y/N!” one of your old childhood friends exclaimed when she saw you. She was dressed in a teal dress, and at her side was some unknown boy you hadn’t met. “It’s so good to see you!” She looked at your boyfriend. “And who’s this?”

“Jasper Hale, ma’am, I’m her date for the evening,” he answered, tipping his hat. The row of women waiting to greet you gushed at his manners, and dare you say, they checked him out so openly. You hugged his bicep tighter.

“Just for the evening or indefinitely?” she cooed.

“Indefinitely.”

You sat down in one of the middle rows and watched in awe as the wedding processional came down the aisle. Ivy was dressed in a glittery dress and carried the largest bouquet of white roses you’d ever seen. Dale had tears in his eyes as he looked up at his bride. They were so perfect, so in love, it made your insides melt.

After the beautiful ceremony, the party moved the barn. The rafters were draped in lights and white ribbons and flower petals covered the ground. You chose a table nearest to one of the wooden walls and curled into Jasper’s side.

“You look so gorgeous,” he said, tucking a dandelion behind your ear. “You outshined the bride, and you didn’t even have to wear that ridiculous dress Alice was trying to shove you in.”  
“All of my girlfriends keep whispering about you. You’re the real star tonight. The best looking man in both Washington and Alabama.”

Just then, Mrs. Lauderdale approached your table.

“Y/N, how are you honey?” she asked as you hugged her plump form. As the mother of the bride, she was dressed in a simple white dress and rocked a crown of flowers in her hair.

“I’m wonderful. Have you met my boyfriend?” You allowed her to inspect Jasper as he offered a hand.

“My, my. What a fine young man,” she cried. “Who knew you could get such a catch?”

She pulled you off to the side, and although Jasper tried to follow, you insisted he stay behind.

“I hope you aren’t upset about the whole bridesmaid situation,” she said, patting your shoulder. “We wanted a small processional anyway—makes it so we can get to the food faster.”

You shook your head. “‘Course not. It was such a beautiful ceremony. And Ivy—she’s stunning,” you said as you admired her twirling form with her new husband.

“Well anyway, John and the guys want to see you. John?”

Mr. Lauderdale greeted you with a nod. “How’s it going?”

“All good here,” you answered enthusiastically. In all honesty, John and his friends intimidated you with their skeptical expressions and hawk-like eyes. It was obvious the men of the family didn’t like you as much as the girls did—and that was fine. You were here for Ivy, not them.

“You got yourself a white boy?” Vernon, Ivy’s brother, asked. “A Yankee?”

“Actually, Jasper’s a Texan. And yes, he’s white. But it isn’t weird or anything.”

Like he was in on the conversation, he smoothly slid in beside you, his cold hand wrapping around your waist.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said as he addressed the men. “I’m a Houston native, by the way. I was raised on a farm myself—had a chocolate brown mare named Buttercup and a field full of bulls.”

“Ah, really? That makes me even more surprised to see you here.”

“Pardon me?”

Vernon smirked. “Y’all go and enjoy yourselves.”

Jasper pulled you away from the barn with a little more determination than you thought was needed. He hadn’t looked nor spoken until the two of you were completely alone by the fence where the ponies ran.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly. “You seem upset.”

“It’s nothing. I didn’t like the way those boys were talking. Had to get outside and clear my mind.” He pulled you closer to his body, and his cool skin felt good in the heat of the night.

“Holding you like this makes me get so sentimental,” he admitted. “It makes me want to take you to the nearest courtyard and get official. It makes me want to buy you a hundred acres and a big, nice house by a river. It makes me want to give you a bunch of kids to keep us company, so we can grow old together and live happily ever after.”

“I like when you get sentimental,” you breathed.

“But,” he stopped, “that last part might not be able to happen. There’s something you should know about me—about our family before you decide to give your heart away.”

“What do you mean? What could possibly be so earth-shattering that it’d make me stop loving you?”

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, staring deeply into your eyes. His brows were creased, forehead wrinkled in thought. 

“Y/N, I wanted to wait to tell you, but I can’t stand lies. Most importantly, I don’t like to lie to you.”

“Just say it, baby.”

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness. 

It was a tall man, about the same height and build as Jasper, with bright crimson eyes and long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. He stared at you intensely before casting his burning gaze to Jasper.

“It’s been a long time, old friend,” he said darkly before inhaling deeply. “And it’s been even longer, Camille.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that you're reading me says you're just a little too obsessed with cowboy Jasper. 
> 
> P.S, me too. ;)


	4. Someone We Used To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here the ish begins mah bois. . .*evil cackle*
> 
> Also if you're offended by slavery themes and triggering topics like that, you might want to skedaddle.

“Preston,” Jasper hissed, pushing you behind him with nearly bruising force. He was an entirely different persona, his cool, collected poise was replaced with this steely, merciless character you swore you’d never witnessed before.

“How long has it been exactly? 157 years? 160? I can’t remember, time passes so slowly now. When we were humans, it seemed to fly by so fast.”

He approached the two of you slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. Jasper gripped your arm so harshly and held you so close to him so you could hardly get a good luck of his face.

But from what you could tell, the man was gorgeous. His skin was pale as the moon, features perfectly proportioned and striking. He seemed to ignore you, for now, turning all his attention to a seething Jasper.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” he warned, “but I left that lifestyle a long time ago. If you want Maria, she’s probably still in Mexico City.”

“I don’t desire to dismantle Maria any longer,” the man said. “In fact, she and I are on good terms actually. When Nettie and Lucy kicked the bucket, and you left the coven, we shared several more battles and skirmishes. But now we can call each other friends with similar goals.”

Jasper growled lowly and spoke in an authoritative voice that was not his. “What the hell does that mean?”

The man finally glanced down at your shivering form. “That girl you’re holding back is mine. Her name is Camille Lafayette, and she belongs to me.”

Jasper narrowed his eyes. “Camille? What are you talking about, Captain?”  
“Captain?” you whispered fearfully, shifting your eyes to his. “Jas, what is he talking about? How do you know him so well?”

Preston unfurled his hands. “Jasper and I fought in the Confederate army. He was my Major and I was his Captain. His brother used to work on my father’s plantation in Louisiana, and that’s how we know each other. We were both created by the same woman, Maria, and we both aided her during the bulk of the latter 19th century Southern Vampire Wars.”

Your eyes widened. “V-vampires? You mean—”

Preston’s whole demeanor changed. “You mean you haven’t told her? I thought she was supposed to be your mate? What, are you trying to make her die of old age?”

Jasper glowered at him. “What do you want, Preston?”

“I want what you’ve been keeping from me. I want my gift, the one thing my father bought me before he died, Major. I want my Camille.”

“She’s a human, how could she have possibly survived so long and so young?”  
The Captain shook his head. “That’s my business, not yours. And if you don’t hand her over peaceably, I’ll take things into my own hands.”

Jasper shifted his weight, pulling you on his back in one move so quickly you hardly noticed the change in elevation. “You know you can’t beat me in a fight, Lafayette. You tried to kill me before, and they didn’t work out too well, did it?”

“No, it didn’t. Not when we had hungry newborns fighting all around us. But I promise, when I get my hands on, you will experience the worst pain imaginable when I rip your head from your body.” He stepped forward.

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to trust me, okay?” he said. When you didn’t answer, he yelled out your name.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to get you out of here, but first, I’m going to have to deal with him.”

“Oh, we won’t be fighting today,” Preston promised. “I have other things to attend to before I deal with you. And as for that family up north, if they decide to intervene, I’ll send my armies to slaughter them too. And this time, my old pal, it won’t be just newborns.”

He walked away into the night from whence he came, the moon shining on his glistening black hair, and the warm light of the barn melding into the shadows. When he was gone, Jasper finally set you down.

“I have to get you back home,” he said, more to himself than to you. He grabbed you tightly by your arm and led you to the house where the rental car waited.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? I’m so scared, baby. He kept talking about vampires—is it true? And, if that’s the case—why am I still alive? Was I—did he used to own me?”

“Y/N,” he barked. “Please calm down. I will tell you everything in a minute.”

You climbed in the passenger side, and immediately, his phone rang.

“What’s wrong? Why are you coming back so early?” Alice frantically asked. You didn’t know how she knew so quickly, for neither of you had even contacted them. After all, the events quite literally just transpired.

“I met an old friend of mine—more like an enemy now. Captain Preston Lafayette II. He served under me in Galveston. For some reason, he claims Y/N was around back in the sixties, and that his family owned her.”

This time, it was Carlisle’s voice. “How is that even possible? Did he say?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t even give me the how or why. He’s even threatening her with Maria. Y/N. . .I think she’s gone into shock.”

“Y/N, honey, are you okay? Can you hear me?” It was your mother.

“I. . .I don’t—I don’t. . .what’s going on. . .going on?”

“Honey, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths for me, okay? Listen to my voice, alright? You’re going to be just fine.”

But instead of doing that, your eyes struggled to focus. The last thing you remember was Jasper touching the side of your cheek before you slipped into unconsciousness.

When you woke up, you were in the hotel room. Jasper had packed and gathered all of your things, and he was sitting by your side on the bed. His eyes trained forward on the city lights of Mobile before he noticed your awakening form.

“How do you feel?”

Something told you he already knew the answer before you answered it. You sat up and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, the sheets falling down around your waist. But instead of wearing your bright yellow sundress, you were wearing the pajama set Esme made you for Christmas.

He’d changed your clothes.

“I. . .I had the strangest dream,” you said, squinting at the light. “We were at the wedding and this weird dude in a tacky three-piece suit told me that y’all were vampires.”

“It wasn’t a dream. It’s all true. Yes, even the part about me being a vampire. It was what I wanted to tell you anyway, it’s why our family is so weird.”

You grimaced as you ran your fingers over the purple hand-shaped mark blooming on your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, staring at his hands with disgust. “To put you in danger. To have the background I do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered.

The pained look only continued before it was quickly replaced with a neutral, ambivalent one. He pulled you onto your feet. “Get changed. We’re leaving for the airport in an hour.”

When you finally arrived home, you felt like your whole body was numb. There was not a trace of the sweet gentleman you fell in love with not too long ago. Instead, there was this cold, unfeeling Major who ordered you around and yelled if you moved one inch from his side.

Your mom scooped you into your arms and held your sobbing form. You longed for food and a warm bed, and you didn’t want to face anyone either. Yet now, it all made sense. The pieces all fell together.

Why they were so cold. Why they didn’t eat or drink. Or why they didn’t like being in the sunshine any longer than they had too. Why every time you woke up, they were always downstairs and awake like they’d never even slept in the first place.

“Y/N, I know you’re probably very confused. But there’s an explanation for all of this—most of it, anyway. But I need you to be open-minded and believe in the possible.”

Carlisle began to tell you the story of his family. And he began with his.

“Our father was a very strict man. He was an Anglican pastor during the 17th century, a time of political upheaval and chaos. He took up harsh raids in killing accused vampires, most of which were humans. When he got in his fifties—too old to keep up the mantle—he passed the torch on to me. It was horrifying, and I hated every moment of it. But I felt indebted to my father. I could not be an unfilial son. Fortunately—or unfortunately, I’d actually managed to stumble across a coven of vampires in the sewers. The hunt ended brutally, and no one survived. But I was left bleeding in the street. . .transforming.”

“And while Carlisle was missing, I was tending the home. Mama died giving birth to Carlisle, so I was pretty much the matron of the household. I knew what he had found was potentially dangerous—that he’d either succeed and end up scarred for life or die trying. It turned out to be later. I tried to find out as much information as I could about the hunt, but everyone was dead or missing. About three years, when I finally turned twenty-seven—an age almost impossible to reach in those times—I found my answer. 

There was this newborn vampire named Alexander Clements who just happened to wander into the church by mistake. I demanded he tell me everything he knew—the poor kid was so uneducated and drunk on blood that he had no clue that an iron cross couldn’t hurt him at all. He told me that Carlisle was still alive somewhere, but he didn’t know anything specifically. That was when he realized that my cover was a fake, and well, I’m changed to tell the tale. Halfway through it, he ran away when some of his old coven mates he’d abandoned caught his scent.”

“I spent a lot of my time studying medicine with the Volturi,” Carlisle explained. “The Volturi is a very complex group that serves as an authoritative force for our kind, that keeps messy vampires from exposing our secrets. After that, I swam to America and eventually turned Edward, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett. Alice and Jasper came a little later.”

“And I kept traveling the countryside. I knew Carlisle was out there, but I had no clue where to look or who to trust. Back then, any vampire was competition, and they were especially excited to wipe out newborns. So for a century or so, I made loops around Europe, aimlessly. I shifted back and forth from human blood to animal blood, but I never really could stay one way or another for too long before slipping back into my old habits.

In 1770, I finally met your dad, Samuel Robynson—the man you can’t remember. He was turned a very long time ago, centuries before the Cullen family was even thought of. And he’d developed self-control that even rivals mine and Carlisle’s today. He accepted me as his friend, and we even grew to love each other. 

For a long time, it was very peaceful. We spent time all over the world—from Ireland, his homeland, to Japan and South Africa. Life was happy—sad at times for the moments and milestones we’d never reach as vampires—but still, happy. I heard reports of a vegetarian doctor in America by some local covens, but I never went to see for myself. I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up—or that we’d be too different after so many years apart.

Then, in (----), we decided we were tired of living the same way year after year. The Volturi has a rule that keeps humans from knowing the secret of vampires, and we were not going to go against that. But we wanted a family, someone other than another vampire who we’d have to deal with like a ticking time bomb.

So we looked into adoption agencies and chose a tiny little place in Louisiana. You were so frail and adorable, and Sam was so proud to have a daughter of his own. We decided we would move back home to the countryside where he grew up—but that plan was ruined when we encountered a coven of rogue vampires.

They wanted to visit us but didn’t know we had you around. Your father fought as hard as he could, but he didn’t survive the attacks. In the end, they burnt his body and our little cottage, and I had to deal with them on my own.

Too overwhelmed with the emotions of Ireland, I moved us to Mobile where I raised you all by myself. Nobody ever questioned my aging, and no other vampires ever challenged me—or even knew where we were. I wanted to tell you the secret but knew I had to turn you afterward. So I waited until you were sixteen before we moved to see my brother. I was for sure it was him at that point.”

Tears streamed down your face as they told their stories. There were still so many more to go, but no time to give them justice. One day, you decided, you would learn what it was like for your cousins.

“And that’s why it doesn’t make sense about Preston,” Jasper growled. “You were clearly born in the (--)th century. How could you be a slave in the 1860s?”

Just then, Emmett walked back into the house carrying a bright red slip of paper.

“Uh, Y/N, you have a letter. . .”

You picked up the paper and it was warm—radiating heat, in fact. You read the words aloud which were scrawled in golden ink as your mother and boyfriend glanced over your shoulder.

“If you want to know the truth and keep her alive, find me at 1700 Pearl Avenue, New Orleans, Louisiana.”

Your mother gasped, bringing a pale hand to her face.

“Oh Y/N! How could it be! How could they have known?!”

“What is it, sister?” Carlisle asked, touching her shoulder.

“It’s the place. The hospital where I adopted her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story so far, don't forget to leave comments and kudos! I really do value feedback >.<


	5. Crescent City

New Orleans. Hot and humid as home. Sister city to Mobile. Walking down the steamy streets, it smelled like spicy seasoning and margaritas—sounded like jazz beats and rushing crowds. 

This year, Ash Wednesday fell incredibly late; March 10 to be exact. You never thought you would find yourself stumbling through New Orleans in the middle of Fat Tuesday—half-naked dancers screaming at your boyfriend from parade floats and indiscreet tourists flashing themselves as your family walked by. It was the most humiliating experience you ever felt, and all you could do is curse the Lost Cause soldiers who started the damn holiday in your home city in the first place.

The hospital was located smack in the middle of the old French Quarter where colonial buildings towered above the people, decorated in royal colored beads and winding lights. Nobody could drive the car through the crowd, so you had to get there by walking. You held your mom’s hand with your left, Jasper’s hand with your right.

“It’s never like this at home,” you explained to Jasper with a nervous laugh. “Did you know that the New Orleans mayor has to get permission from Mobile’s mayor every year to practice Mardi Gras?”

He looked down at you with his burning eyes. Since becoming aware of your family’s secret, he’d hardened himself to this emotionless being whose only concern was your safety. You were not allowed to leave his site, and when you had to go to the bathroom, he stood right outside the door like some long lost puppy.

“Something tells me they wouldn’t care whether or not they got permission anyway,” Emmett cackled. “New Orleans is wild.”

“Yeah, and you keep your eyes on the ground, sir,” Rosalie said, punching the side of his arm. The reverberating echo sounded like cracking glass.

The hospital was in very good shape on the outside despite being closed indefinitely for the past seventeen years. According to your mom, immediately after you were born, the place had been completely shut down and abandoned. 

There were pictures of all kinds of historic events hung in antique gold frames on the walls: naval ships on fire at the Battle of Galveston, slaves picking fresh cotton on a South Carolinian plantation, Jefferson Davis’s inauguration in Montgomery, Alabama.

And in the middle of the lobby were a series of three grand portraits of Texas Majors. And at the end: Jasper Whitlock, Houston native, (1845-1863), died during a surprise Union attack in an evacuation order. There he was in his fine uniform, a cowboy hat over his honey curls. He looked so recognizable. . .so familiar in those white gloves—

He touched your side, and you looked around. The others were gone from sight, but you knew they could still hear everything where you were. 

“If I could go back in time, if I could start all over again, I would do so in a heartbeat. I’m not proud of my past, Y/N. Not when I was human, nor when I changed. And I. . .I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness but I—”

There was venom glistening in his eyes. Vampires couldn’t cry. It was one of the things Rosalie said she missed most about being a human. But looking at Jasper now, he looked like he was on the very verge of doing the possible. He fell to his knees.

“I’m so sorry for it all. I’m so sorry for what I did. I never. . .I never did some of the things my comrades did, but that doesn’t make me any less guilty. I still killed people. I killed people for the wrong reason, Y/N. I was a monster, and I can never wipe that blood off my ledger.”

You cradled his face in your hands. “We all have our past, Jas. You might’ve made mistakes, you might’ve done bad things, but you’re not the same person you used to be. It was a different time and era, and frankly, you growing from what you’ve suffered and experienced makes me love you even more.”

“But I was evil. There was evil in my heart, and I thought I was doing right. I convinced myself I was fighting for my neighbors—for my way of life. But the truth is, that way of life was wrong. Whether it was enslaving African Americans or newborns, I still felt all of their pain. It was so much, so much death and heartache,” he insisted, holding on to your wrists like they were the only thing they could hold him upright. “And I’m not worthy to be your man.”

“You damn right, you aren’t,” a feminine voice snapped behind you.

You turned around to face a black woman, just about her early twenties, menacing at Jasper by your side. She had a thick, kinky head of naturally textured hair, and she was very well built—like she could run a marathon and beat everyone in the race. And her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of hazel that stood out against her skin.

“Who—who are you?” you asked, your voice trembling and barely above a whisper. The Cullens appeared from the shadows, surprised and slightly on edge that someone was in the hospital that they did not know about.

“My name used to be Ava Lafayette,” she explained, glancing you up down like you were nothing more than a roach. “We used to be—we are sisters.”

“How do I? I feel like we’ve met before.” Jasper touched his head, his fingernails digging into his skin like he was in severe pain. You hugged his waist, trying to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do for the ailment of a vampire. Carlisle held him upright with his steady hands.

“That’s because we have, Major. You had a mission to gather all-male, able-bodied volunteers from Mobile when you stumbled across the Lafayette plantation. I was a house slave of that household, of Preston Lafayette Sr.’s household. And he is also my father.”

You reeled back in horror. “So. . .does that mean? Preston Lafayette II is my brother???!”

She shook her head. “Nope, not this time. He’s my brother. Your father’s name was James. He was a full-blooded slave who lived on a neighboring plantation about thirty miles north.”

“But how is this possible?” your mother demanded, holding your arm. “She was born right here seventeen years ago. My husband and I adopted her. She was a baby!”

Ava glared at her, her eyes brightening inhumanely blue. “How are you skeletons still standing and breathing? It’s the work of the witches. The rule of supernatural order. Except in this case, Y/N is an exception.”

“. . .What?”

Ava suddenly waved her hand, and the air around you transformed into a place that was not the hospital. You were in the middle of a hot, blazing field, there were little black children running around carrying cracked buckets of water. Horses whinnied at the swarming flies, and poorly abused men and women sang in the fields.

“Massah completely forgot about Mama after I was born. About six years later when she had enough cloth to make her own wedding dress, she and James jumped the broom. You were born a couple of months later, right around the time Preston Jr. himself was born.

The two of you were inseparable. You played in the fields together when you weren’t in the Big House secretly learning lessons with Missus. He taught you how to ride his horse, Midnight, and you showed him how to gather berries by the river where the girls washed the laundry.

The two of you fell in love, and although you’d gotten much too old to be running around, Preston loved you to pieces. He begged Massah to let you in the house with all the fair-skinned servants. So, Massah took it one step further. He gave you to him for his nineteenth birthday.

The night of the party, however, Major Whitlock and some of his men came riding up to the front steps. They invited him in for dinner, and Preston had no choice but to join since his father was much too old to serve and he had no other male siblings. 

He had to leave you behind, but not before finding out you were expecting’. It wasn’t uncommon for those kinds of things to happen back then, but it was still big news. Preston was devastated. He never believed in slavery anyhow, but he was afraid Missus would sell you if she knew about the baby. He was supposed to be getting married to Miss Abigail Mae Shepherd, and it would not be good news to hear about a half-negro baby in the plantation.

Unfortunately, Preston was right. While he was gone, Mama was furious. Missus had made arrangements for you to be sold up to a whore house in Charleston the next week. But see the thing about Mama—she was no ordinary slave. She was a witch who’d given up her magic in order to be with a human, James. 

She sought help from her friends, but they would not help her. So, with no other choice, she decided to cast the forbidden spell.

She ignored the laws of time, erased your memories, and de-aged you in order to send you to the year (----), when you were ‘born.’ This hospital was never real, just an illusion that came with the spell. She intended for some human to adopt you so you could grow up as a normal child in the 21st century, but instead you were adopted by a white vampire.”

The illusion melted away, and once again you were in the dusty hospital.

“You don’t know the pain and suffering I went through while you were enjoying the amenities of the future. Mama, after breaking the most sacred forbidden spell of the witches, was sentenced to death by all of the North American clans. They allowed Missus to have her hanged, and then she turned her rage onto me.

I eventually ran to New Orleans to escape the Lafayettes and find the truth of our supernatural background. There, the witches accepted me, albeit begrudgingly, and taught me how to use my power. I knew I’d eventually find you, one year or another, but I didn’t expect it would take nearly two centuries to do so.”

Your heart was broken. Your whole life—as tragic as it was—was built with that man who was chasing after you now. He was the father to your unborn child, the child that would never be born. You’d grown up together, known each other inside and out. But you’d completely forgotten him and now he was coming back—and for what reason?

“So. . .witches. . .are they immortal?” Carlisle asked.

“Precisely—if they choose to enable their powers and stay that way. Only a witch can kill a witch. We witches created the first vampires in the world as a part of our Goddess’s order. The werewolves and shapeshifters and La Push were created sometime before that as well.”

“But why is Preston trying to come for Y/N? I thought you said he was against slavery? If he really loves her, why didn’t he just tell her the whole truth in the first place?” Your mom demanded.

Ava's eyes turned back hazel, and a chair appeared behind her. “Because he wants to completely ruin Jasper. He blames Jasper for making him leave, and he blames Jasper for all the wars he fought with Maria in the South. And the little devil has allied herself with his cause, for no one wants to see him suffer more than she does.”

You felt Jasper tense beside you. None of this was his fault, he was just doing what he was ordered. But Preston was focusing all his energy on completely destroying your bond with him. Earlier, Jasper explained that you were his mate. Perhaps, this was a revenge plot?

“But why would he think I’d willingly fall into his arms like we’re still in love? It was over a century ago, and I don’t remember any of it!” you shouted.

“That man died in 1863 when he was turned. Since that day, he’s been stuck in the past—eternally bound to the promise to return back to you. No matter what you say, he’s always going to after you. That’s what he told his mother, and the next day she signed your papers.”

Jasper wrapped a protective arm around your middle. “That won’t happen. He won’t take her away from me. And as for Maria, I know her better than anyone else in this world. I’m not scared if it comes to a fight.”

“Why can’t I see anything anymore?” Alice cried. “And why can’t the witches help?”

“Because once a witch is aware of what they are, vampires can no longer turn them or use their gifts on them. Maria and Preston have also probably enlisted the help of witches or wolves to cover their tracks. And as for the witches. . .they have completely shunned Y/N from society. In fact, they’d probably be more willing to kill her than help, but because of me, they’re holding their preference of the law at bay.”

Edward, frustrated at the lack of his telepathic abilities, said, “So we’re going in blind, the witches won’t help—isn’t this a Volturi level threat?”

Ava sighed. “The Volturi is completely submissive to the witches. If they come near a witch family or steps within a mile radius of even the city of New Orleans, the entire vampire race will be completely wiped out. Sorry, but they won’t be much help in this fight.”

You pressed your hand to your chest, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. Immediately, Jasper caught you as you wobbled on your feet from the lack of oxygen. His scent comforted you, but you felt the distance between the two of you more than ever. At one point, you were pledged to another man; the same man after his life now.

“So what can we do?” your mother and Esme pleaded. “How can we save her? They’re bringing their newborn armies after us, the seven of us won’t be enough!”

Ava twirled a ball of light in her fingers thoughtfully. You realized that despite the fact she was biracial, she looked so similar to you. You shared the same round nose and shape of lips. 

“I really hate you more than anything, if I’m being honest. Your mom favored you and sent you away, leaving me in the dust and without a mother in a time when I didn’t understand a bit of what magic was or that the supernatural even existed,” she admitted. “But you’re still my sister, and you’re the only family I’ve got left. I’m going to try to get some of my friends to come to our side, but that’s no guarantee. Sadly, Helen of Troy is still pinned for being the start of war.”

“And we have some friends of our own,” Carlisle said. “And we’ll try to convince the shapeshifters to help too. If we could lure them back to La Push, that would mean infringing on werewolf territory and it would give them no choice but to defend Y/N.”

Jasper held you tighter, and his eyes darkened. “I don’t care what I have to do. Preston has been sorely mistaken, and now we have an old score to settle. Y/N and I are in love now, and we always will be. What happened in 1863 will stay in 1863, and I will be the one to make sure that happens.”

You snuggled into his chest, closing your eyes. You prayed to God—the Goddess or whoever—that you and your family would end up okay. You prayed for the baby that was never born, the baby that was never loved, and you prayed for your biological mother’s tortured soul. But lastly, and more importantly, you prayed for Jasper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twilight failed for me growing up. Edward was by far the most boring character (second only to Bella Swan herself). I would give anything to have a story about Jasper or Carlisle. The Southern Vampire Wars or Carlisle's time with the Volturi would be a great solo story, but instead, Meyer creates Midnight Sun. It's really frustrating to the point where I'm just gonna have to do it myself.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Leave kudos and comments if you like the story so far!


	6. Chapter 6

You laid sleeplessly in his bed. These days were so lonely, Jasper and the wolves were always fighting, and in the daytime, Ava trained you in magic. 

You’d made quite a bit of progress, but it always drained you physically. Being a witch was not as easy as they made it out in the movies. It was about refining your energy, making sure a face-full of gravity didn’t hit you in the face and incapacitate you. You’d done that a couple of times already.

The limits of being a witch were still undefined. Because you and your sister were only half—as were most modern witches—there were still so many things and spells you couldn’t access or perform. Still, Ava knew how to do just about everything.

She could fly and shadow travel for short distances, was completely impervious to all human weapons, could breathe without oxygen, and create breath-taking illusions that could completely fool and take down an unsuspecting vampire. You barely even knew how to affect the temperature around your body, much less create fire—the new skill she was trying to get you to master.

You would never be ready by the time Preston and Maria arrived.

Uncle Carlisle contacted some of their old friends. The Denali clan came down from Alaska, Alistair from the English countryside, and the Egyptian coven from the east. The shapeshifters were not thrilled to have vampires trespassing near their land, and Edward kindly informed them of the coming wave of newborns. 

Jasper took control in training everyone to fight, though it seemed some of them already had prior experience. He showed the wolves how to avoid the crushing arms of a vampire and how to mobilize their forces to focus on a specific target.

Meanwhile, you were on the sidelines wasting all the time trying to make a leaf catch on fire. You felt like you were doing nothing—and what was the point? Ava could’ve been training by herself, honing her own skills. Instead, she was beating you with a stick every time you failed—which was every time.

That was until her friend, Zacarias, arrived.

He was tall and very well-defined like he’d been lifting heavy tools all his life. His skin was the color of dark chocolate, eyes a metallic bronze. He arrived just before you were about to give up, just before you caved in front of a group of fully capable vampires.

“So this is the little bear,” he said, chuckling. “Wow, you always described her like she was so tiny. She’s bigger than I thought. 

“Little bear?”

“That was your nickname,” Ava explained, “Because you had thick curly dark hair.”

“Who gave me that nickname?”

She faltered before walking away. You knew who gave it to you, even if she refused to say his name.

“I heard you’re having trouble with your magic. That’s okay, it’s expected for the first few weeks. You’re only a half-blood, after all. But now you’ve got me, and I’ve never had a student fail,” Zacarias promised. 

Suddenly, he launched you straight into the air. You were hovering in place, your body stuck where the tip of the trees touched the sky.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jasper demanded, dropping Eleazar, his opponent. His eyes glowed protectively. The Major had taken control. “Put her down immediately. And trust me, you don’t want to make me have to do it.”

Zacarias dusted off his hands. “It’s part of her training, Whitlock. Try not to be on edge, alright? Trust me, her instincts will kick in if she wants to get down.”

You struggled in the air, flailing your arms and trying to move your body. But the air was so stiff around you, like gravity had the opposite effect. Birds flew past you, cocking their heads at you with their curious beady eyes.

“She doesn’t need no training!” Jasper insisted.

The witch rolled his eyes. “Fine, if that’s the way it’s going to be. I’ll put her down.”

Now you were plummeting down to the ground. You screamed, shielding your arms over your face. I’m going to die, you thought. And in the most embarrassing way.

Jasper, climbing up a tree, was preparing to catch you. But now you were no longer hurtling down to the ground. The grass stopped about a foot from where you hovered above the ground, and you felt something like electricity buzzing in your veins.

“I told you, I’ve never had a student fail,” Zacarias smirked. “Works every time.”

“If you ever try some shit like that without my permission—” Jasper started.

“How else is she supposed to protect herself? If Preston decides he wants to snap her neck, what’s she supposed to do? She’s a witch, Whitlock. More powerful than any of you standing here. But the only way she’s ever going to unlock that power is by coming out of her comfort zone. This isn’t the Civil War anymore, Major. You aren’t the leader of this circus.”

That night, surprisingly, Jasper made it to his—your temporary bedroom. His room was filled with shelves of books, little collectibles and trinkets from over the years. He’d never even had a bed until you arrived, but he made sure to buy a big enough mattress where you both could fit on it.

“Jas?”

He stopped just inches from the bed. “Thought you were asleep. You’re so quiet up here.”  
“Where are the others?”

“Carlisle and the family took the others to feed outside of Forks. The wolves are back in human form in La Push, and the witches are at the hotel to rest for the night.”

“Jasper?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can you please get in with me?”

He was hesitant for a moment before giving up and climbing in the covers. He held you tightly to his body, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

“There’s so much we have to talk about,” you whispered.

“I know, and I’m not going to lie, I haven’t been the most doting in the last few weeks. The wolves have never fought any vampires since their ancestors' last battle, they have so much to learn. And your sister’s done a pretty good of keeping you busy as well.”

You were quiet before sitting up in his arms. He was so beautiful under the lamplight. If you blocked out all your other racing thoughts, you could imagine the two of you somewhere else under different circumstances. Maybe you’d be married by now—after all, high school wasn’t an option right now anyway.

If he were human, he’d be just coming home from work—and you’d be in the kitchen cooking dinner. He’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, whispering all the naughty things he wanted to do to you. . .

“That was a swift change in your emotions,” he said, eyebrows raised. Now that you were a witch, Ava taught you how to turn off the different powers of the vampires around you. But you liked having Jasper being able to read you, it kept a sense of honesty between the two of you. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m getting off track. I wanted to talk to you about something different. . .about the past.”

He tensed, sighing. This conversation was inevitable anyway. You both knew that.

“Ask anything you want.”

You paused. “What was your life before you became a vampire?”

“I. . .there’s a lot I can’t remember. But from what I do remember, it wasn’t much. I had a little brother named August and a Ma and Pa. Pa was just a poor farmer, and we didn’t have much of anything. And Ma came from a pretty well-off family, but they never accepted Pa, so they moved away from her family’s house, penniless and in love.

They had me about a year later. By the time I could walk, I was out on the farm helping with the chores. We had a little barn with chickens, and we had a mule—not a mare—named Buttercup that pulled all the carts. And the bulls in the field were not our own. We tended them for a wealthy planter several miles away.

August was born about three years after I was, and by the time the recruits came to our house for the war, he was only fourteen. Times were hard and I knew my parents could barely afford to keep food on the table. I left home and lied about my age to get into the army, and I left all my savings so I’d never have to look back.

I quickly moved up the ranks—Carlisle suspects it's the trait that carried into my vampiric life. When I was nineteen, I was finally promoted to Majorial status, and I was sent to Alabama where I had to collect men who were drafted.

That’s where I met Preston. He was smart, quick on his feet. It wasn’t long before I made him my Captain. I had no idea about you, for he was quite private about his personal life. We were friends, I trusted him with my life. But that’s when we met Maria.

We were on a mission escorting refugee women and children from Galveston. We saw Maria, Nettie, and Lucy all walking by themselves, dressed in the finest clothes. They were some of the most beautiful women we’d ever seen, and we stopped to give them our aid.

Working for Maria was pure hell. We trained her newborns, and I had the job of disposing of them. We fought other covens for territory and all for what—a few days of dominance? After a while, she started a rift between me and Preston. He fell in love with Lucy and wanted to establish his own coven elsewhere. They wanted to overthrow Maria and all of us, but I sensed their aggression.

We planned a surprise attack and destroyed all of them. Preston got away, I couldn’t bear to see my long-time friend die. Eventually, I left Maria and went to live with my friends Peter and Charlotte. But I met my sister Alice in a diner, and we left together to join the Cullens.”

It was so much to process. Jasper had lived nearly two centuries before you, and lived a long, full life.

“Were you in love with her?” you whispered.

He lowered his eyes. “I thought I was. I thought she loved me, but she didn’t. I’d just convinced myself otherwise.”

He lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “But the only woman I love right now and will forever love is you.”

Your lips touched and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Whenever you kissed, you never wanted to separate. His tongue pushed into your mouth, and the taste of him drove heat straight to your core.

“I know you want me,” he growled onto your lips, “but there are several feeding vampires nearby. I can’t stand when any human men are around you, much less witches and wolves and vampires. Besides, this is not how I imagined our first time to be.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you breathed. “I want everyone to see that I’m yours.”

Jasper smirked. “As tempting as that sounds, I believe a real lady deserves to be pampered and pleasured just like a queen. I want to take you to some beautiful island so the sun can shine on your pretty skin. I want to make you my wife before I. . .take you in that way.”

You blushed into his chest, hiding your face in the fabric of his shirt. Not even a few moments later, you heard the front door bust open.

Jasper groaned. “The family’s here.”

Emmett suddenly appeared in the doorway, a stupid grin on his face. “Aren’t you guys so romantic? Jasper’s gonna take to a farm so y’all can get married surrounded by the ducks and chickens.”

“The sad part is, that isn’t very far from what he was thinking,” Edward cried. “God, I hate being in the house with a bunch of immortal, horny teenagers.”

When they were back downstairs, you turned back to your boyfriend.

“So. . .what are you going to do when Preston and Maria arrive? Will you try to talk them down, come to some kind of agreement?”

He stared off towards the mass of dark trees visible through the window.

“I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to kill anyone. But if he comes between us, I won’t hesitate to do just that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHiS cHaPtEr RaUnChY. . .sMuT cOmInG sOoN
> 
> The ending is giving me anxiety, but tomorrow I'll be finishing the final installment. I wish I could re-write the whole Twilight series, for real. It would be much better than this (lol), as I put a lot of detail and thought in my actual project. I would do a whole solo story with Jasper, and maybe even Carlisle. Because let's be honest, Bella and Edward are so boring, their relationship is actually boring and cringe-worthy half the time. Ugh.
> 
> Anyway, leave comments and kudos if you like it so far! >.<


	7. Still Stuck In 1863

That night, you had the strangest, most desirable nightmare of your entire life.

You were barefoot, laying in a bed of flowers wearing a long black dress and white apron. By your side, he was there. But instead of his brilliant red eyes, they were the peaceful color of a bluish-gray. On his stomach rested his top hat and he was dressed in the finest clothes; clothes no regular person should have been lounging around in.

“P-Preston?”

He turned on his side and looked up at you, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on your flat middle. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, dear. I’m here.”

“I. . .” you looked around the clearing. It was early in the afternoon, the golden rays peeking through the oak trees above you. In the distance, rows of cotton stood out against the brown field. “Is this. . .a dream. . .or a memory?”

“Neither,” he murmured. “This is a vision. We are talking together in real-time while you are asleep. Everything around us is what home used to look like.”

“How. . .is this possible?”

He caressed your face with his other hand, gazing into your eyes like he was a moth drawn to a light. 

“This is what life should’ve been like. Your mom and the aunties should have been making clothes for the baby, and I should’ve been preparing our home in Pensacola. Instead, I was dragged out to war for what would be the final time I’d ever see you.”

You shook your head, sitting up in the bed of dandelions. “Home? I would be a slave if that would’ve come to fruition. You would’ve married Abigail, and I’d be your negroe mistress sleeping in the shack outside with our biracial children.”

He grimaced at his former fiance’s name. No matter what he said, the truth would always be the same. Your love was never equal, he owned you. His family owned you from the moment you were born. You were not his lover. You were his slave.

“I would’ve bought your freedom. Mother could not really force me to marry that woman. I wouldn’t have put up with it—not in a million years. I wanted to dress you in the finest clothes, drape you in jewels. At one time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to believe me.”

He gently pushed you back down to the earth and hovered over your middle before placing a series of kisses on your covered navel.

“We were going to name her Sarah,” he said with a sad note of laughter. “If she was a girl. And if he was a boy—”

“Clyde,” you whispered. “Oh, Preston—Preston, I remember it all. Everything!”

He took you in his heart, and you heard his wild heartbeat clear and strong. The flood of memories was overwhelming, and all you could do was sob in his chest. You remembered catching lightning bugs in the twilight, him secretly teaching you how to read under the stairs. You remembered making love in his bedroom—how the other slaves on the plantation resented his favoritism. 

You remembered missing your periods three consecutive months in a row. You remembered his face as you told him, how he lifted you in his arms. You remembered when Major Whitlock arrived and took him away, how he left you with only a little picture of him in a tiny locket.

You remembered his furious mother, and how she incurred her wrath on you any chance she got. You remembered when she knocked you unconscious, blood spilling between your legs when she told you her plans. You remembered your mother’s cold hands and the pain—

How you cried. How you wished for him to come and take your pain away. And your vengeful mother. She spoke nonsense in your ear as you were dying on her straw mattress. She chanted in the candle dim light of your cabin, and the next thing you knew—

You were being tickled in your adopted mother’s arms. 

“Do you know?” you choked. “Do you know what your mother did to me?”

His eyes lowered, hands falling to clasp your wrists. “I didn’t find out until twenty years later. . .when I could finally stand to be near a human without wanting to rip their throat out.”

“Did you know. . .that she killed our baby? That she wanted to send me up to Charleston so Abigail and her folks wouldn’t know?”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he turned away. As he did, a butterfly rose from a lonesome bluebell.

“If I would have been there, I wouldn’t have let that happen,” he growled. “And it’s all Jasper Whitlock’s fault. If he wouldn’t have dragged me out to—”

“No,” you said, “you wanted to go to war. You wanted to bring honor to your family and keep slaves from being free so you could bathe in your money. Don’t act like the victim, Preston. Don’t act like I don’t remember how cruel you were when the abolitionists showed up in Mobile.”

He shook his head, whirling back around to face your tear-stained face. “It was a different time, Y/N, Why does that excuse work for Jasper and not for me? It was my right—”

“And you still think it is!” you snapped. “You think you’re entitled to me because of the past, because of a flawed love we used to share. Jasper has acknowledged things have changed, and he’s changed with time. But you—you’re still stuck in 1863.”

“No!” he shouted ferociously, and suddenly his eyes flickered from river blue to blazing red. “I lost the life I should’ve had! He stole that from me! He deserves to pay, to feel every ounce of suffering I felt all those years.”

“Has he not suffered as I have?” you cried. “He was a slave to Maria, just like I was a slave to you!”

His eyes closed, and he struggled to regain his composure. You saw through the illusion quickly. He must’ve enlisted the powers of a witch to fabricate this false reality. Your love for Preston was real, but your fear of him was even stronger. You gave yourself to him out of necessity. To refuse your master. . .it was not something a black woman did and got away to tell the story.

“It doesn’t matter how you feel,” he said after a while. “I will make you love me again as you did once before. You’ll see—once I destroy Jasper and all of his family, you will have nobody else but me.”

The dream evaporated and suddenly you were in the middle of the living room, your family and guests all standing over you as she gasped violently.

“Y/N!” Jasper called, holding you in your arms as you came to. Your mother was about to inject an IV needle into your vein while Carlisle tried to determine the cause of your sudden collapse.

“Mom? Jas? I—” you tried to sit up but you were promptly held in place.

“Just breathe, darlin’,” Jasper instructed. “I’ll move you in a minute. It’s okay, I got you.”

You attempted to weakly lift up your hand to his cold face. And that’s when you knew. Nothing or no one could ever separate you from him. Jasper was the only man you loved; the only man you needed. If he was the light, you were his shadow. If you were the night, he was the star that made it brighter.

“Y/N, this is really important,” your sister said, bending down on her knees to get closer to you. “What happened while you were gone?” Behind her Zacarias stood looking very concerned, his hand on her shoulder.

You shook your head, trying to find a way to say the words. “It was him, and we were. . .back in the past.”

Jasper’s jaw clenched and he looked towards the ceiling. If he were human, you could tell he would be crying by now. 

“He’s got a witch on his side,” Zacarias confirmed, crossing his arms. “And whoever it is, they must be good. It’s hard to make telepathic communications for more than a few moments at a time, especially from such a far distance.”

“Then what can we do?” Peter asked, looking at the Cullens in desperation. “These witches. . .we’ve never faced anything like them before. And the newborn armies will still be coming on top of that.”

Ava massaged the palm of your hand comfortingly, slowly, your energy began to come back. But Jasper still would not let you move.

“Witches are not infallible. It looks like he’s only got one on his side—maybe two if he’s lucky. As long as they’re at a far enough distance, well protected by the armies, they can do much damage to any specific target. The concentration that’s needed for combat is ridiculously difficult, and they can only focus on a few people at once. But that’s why Zach and I are here. We can hold off their attacks while you guys take care of the armies.”

Jasper finally spoke up, shifting you so that you were held firmly in his embrace. “We’ve got just a week-and-a-half to get in tip-top shape and make things right. I don’t care what I have to do, Ava, I won’t let Y/N get hurt. I would die if it meant her freedom, and if it that’s what it takes to end this all, then don’t hesitate to sacrifice me for the greatest cause—”

“No!” you objected. “If you die, I’m dying with you! I don’t want to be in this world without you, Jasper. It wouldn’t even be life anymore! Please don’t say that, please don’t leave me alone!”

Carlisle kindly ushered the guests to the door and left the two of you alone in the house.

“Your happiness is my only priority. And if you want to be with him. . .then you should,” he whispered painfully. “I deserve to pay for the suffering and heart I’ve caused others. I could’ve sent Preston away with the others when we were leaving that fateful night. He didn’t have to die, as I did.”

“You didn’t die,” you insisted. “It was the first stage of your metamorphosis. He died that night. He could never get over what he’d lost then and even now. That’s not your fault. He could choose to be happy, but yet he only desires the suffering over others. He told me he didn’t care about my happiness but you—”

You didn’t have to finish your statement, both of you knew in your hearts. 

“I love you so much, baby!” you sobbed, clinging onto his shirt desperately. “I don’t want him, or any of the life we had before. You are my now, and you are my future.”

He buried his face into your shoulder, rocking you on the cold living room floor. 

“And I love you too, darlin’. I love you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I went to my friend's house on Friday, and then went to the beach on Saturday and Sunday. I hope you had a happy Memorial Day, honoring all the U.S service members. . .poor Jasper. He was in the Confederacy so it doesn't count. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. The Wrath of Nature

It was a cold, damp morning when they arrived. Nature seemed to acknowledge the supernatural army’s presence, for not even a bird or cricket made a single chirp in the golden morning. Beside you, Jasper, your family, your friends, Zacarias, and the wolf tribe stood. You held your boyfriend’s hand, trying not to tremble from pure fear and the billowing wind that was so oddly cold this late in the spring. 

And when you saw her, your terror quadrupled. 

Her olive skin lightly sparkled in the morning rays, thick, black hair cascading elegantly down her bare, uncovered shoulders. She was dressed like she could be headed to Florida for vacation instead of the chilly environment that was Washington. Her piercing red eyes found yours, and your heart quivered in response.

Preston was even more unnerving. His hair had been let down, straight and free which covered his ears. He wore a long black coat that stopped at his mid-thighs as well as a wide-brimmed hat and leather black boots. He was eerily relaxed for a person who intended to go to war. 

Behind them were the newborns. They sauntered in the shadow of the trees, their glowing eyes full of hate and pure instinct. Some were young—looking no older than the age of fifteen. Others appeared to be in their late twenties. But none were over the age of thirty.

“Friends,” Maria called, but her voice was barely loud enough for you to make out. She was having a private conversation with the wolves, one she did not intend for you to hear. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen some of your faces. You, especially, Jasper. It’s been—what? Just over a century now.”

“Take your newborns and leave,” Jasper advised. “We left on a mutual agreement that you supported my search for tranquility. Does that agreement no longer stand?”

She tsked. “Jasper, Jasper, ever the romantic. You never liked violence, did you? I may be immortal, but a hundred years is still a long time. And besides, the Captain made such a tempting offer.”

Preston walked a few paces forward, his heels crunching in the soft grass. “I’ve waited forever for this. I thought my Camille was gone forever, that is, until I heard of a little baby being born in New Orleans. You wouldn’t believe how fast news spreads in the Crescent City.”

“So why didn’t you take her then?” your mother demanded. “Before I adopted her, before she had the chance to fall in love with Jasper, her mate?”

“I had to get my thirst under control. Living completely unrestrained is so satisfying, but when it comes to associating with humans, it’s impossible to stay decent. I didn’t know at the time that witches could change, but if I did, trust me, you or any of you rotten Cullens would have gotten to her first.”

Your breath caught in your throat. And to think this man had known about you along.

“That’s right, Jasper,” he chuckled, much to Jasper’s dismay. “I was watching from afar—every birthday, every school dance, and every vacation. You think she belongs to you? I know her inside and out, 19th century and 21st century. And when I was finally ready to bring her back with me, you just had to interfere.”

“You disgust me,” you spat. “You couldn’t win me over properly, so you had to become a perv. I will never love you.”

He lifted his head in the air, his dark eyes closed. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

The newborns behind him began charging, and those around you met them, alabaster limbs meeting alabaster targets. The young vampires were faster, stronger. But the Cullens and your friends’ combined experience forced them back until they could be dealt with individually.

In front of you, Zacarias and Ava worked hard keeping the waves of bodies back. It was then that you noticed the small, determined girl standing in between Maria and Preston. She looked no older than ten, someone who must’ve been easily manipulated to do their bidding. But one thing for sure, she was definitely a witch. And a powerful one at that.

“I should do something!” you cried. “I’m a witch, I can fight!”

Jasper held you back. “Your skills are not up to par. If you go out there, you’ll be killed. Or worse, Preston will get to you.”

Suddenly, a pale white arm came flying past you. Emmett barrelled near carrying a decapitated body. His bulging muscles sparkled from the effort.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll have him ‘em all in no time.”

But that’s when Maria broke out of her formation. She wrangled Alice by her throat, her dainty legs swinging in the empty air. 

“If you won’t face me, then I’ll make you come.” 

“Alice, no!”

Jasper sprung towards them, his lightning speed barely registering in your mind. Alice’s face was contorted, the sickening crack of her neck like shattering glass. Maria smiled menacingly.

But before he could get there, his body was gripped in an invisible force that froze him in place. His amber eyes were completely overcome with a blue glow. Zacarias and Ava both worked to free him—Ava concentrating on Maria’s steel grip and Zacarias focusing on the tiny witch’s magic.

The hair behind your ear fluttered, you felt his cold breath in its stead.

“I told you. You are mine, you will always be mine.”

You tried to propel yourself away, but he snatched you by your arm, pulling you across his shoulder like a sack of rice. It was futile to fight like you did, to beat your fists on his back and kick your legs. But nevertheless, you struggled in vain.

“Y/N!” your mother called, but she was thrown down by a newborn so hard, her torso shattered from the force. And Ava, she tried to get to you, but the little witch wrapped her in blue light, her powers and range of mobility completely incapacitated. Meanwhile, Zacarias tried to hold the front for both the vampires and Maria.

This is it, you thought. Back to your chains. Preston would not give up his tirade. His muscles tensed and you sensed he was preparing to run. Before he could do so, however, a line of sun-tanned bodies emerged from the thick throes of the forest.

He stopped, his eyes widening in rage. “No! No! We had a deal!”

The first one to speak had long, gray braids covered in beads and ribbons that fell down her back. Her skin was golden brown and covered in elaborate tattoos that stretched down her arms. 

“The deal was that you’d take care of the girl, restore her back to her proper time. That was the only reason we allowed Maaliyah to come with you. But then we learned your true intentions—and no witch would ever bring you back to the 19th century.”

He shook his head, placing you on the ground beside him. “We belong together, Queen Lovie. In the 1860s. Help us restore the timeline, we don’t belong here.”

“No,” she said, “you do. You’re a vampire, you have aged as a vampire should. But she was de-aged and taken to this time and century. She will go back, but you will stay.”

She waved her hand, and you were blinded in white light.

You looked around and you were standing in the Oakleigh mansion’s library. A wall of books lined the wall, silk curtains fluttering from the afternoon breeze. In the corner of the room was a crumpled American flag on the cherry wood floor, and up on the wall was the red and blue Confederate flag proudly displayed on the wall. 

You approached the glossy desk, examining the thin papers covering the surface. A broad newspaper, The Mobile Press-Register, sat on one of the open bibles. The date at the top read, December 25, 1862.

“It’s you,” you whispered, lifting your eyes. “You’re my mother.”

She was dressed in a servant’s dress, her thick hair unmoisturized and unkempt due to the hard years of work in the fields. But she looked just like you, and she resembled your sister, Ava. 

“For years I’ve watched you from the spirit realm, watching you grow and mature under the care of a stranger. I watched you do things your father and I only dreamed we could see come true.” Reaching forward, she brushed her calloused fingers against your cheek.

You were filled with memories from another life—playing in dirt-floor shacks, braiding the other little girls’ hair with flowers and twigs, singing songs by the riverside on Sunday mornings. It was your life on the plantation, a happy, pleasant life. Your happiness did not solely revolve around Preston, and for years, the two of you encountered a rift from the ages of ten until fifteen. 

It wasn’t until his sixteen birthday did he start looking at you in that way, and it was only because his friends and male family members did it first. He wanted his own girl to call his own, something he could completely control and possess outside the realm of fancy dresses the daughters of wealthy girls flaunted when they visited the estate.

He never loved you—not the way a real man loves a woman. If his desire had a color, it would be blazing red. But Jasper. Jasper’s love was tender like lavender. Gentle and light like cornflower blue.

“I won’t let them undo what I sacrificed my life for,” she promised. “I knew they would try this eventually. That’s why I cast a spell, forever keeping you in the future. I won’t let you come back to this place, I won’t ever let you experience that pain—the pain you felt when my grandchild was lost.”

She waved her hand, and the view of the room began to fade.

“Please, Mama!” you cried, falling to your knees and the skirt of her dress. “I will never see you again! I lost so many good memories of you. . .I don’t even remember your name.”

She kneeled down, placing a feather-like kiss on the top of your forehead. Together, you cried in the receding reality of the room. She was sending you back home.

“Nothing—not time nor man—could take you away from me, baby. I will always be in your heart, even if you can’t quite remember it all. I would rather you hold on to the feeling, the love we had, rather than the details. Take that love and give it to Carmine, to the Cullens, and to Jasper.”

You opened her eyes, and she was gone. Elizabeth. Her name was Elizabeth.

“That damned woman,” Queen Lovie laughed mirthlessly, her hands resting on her hips. “She just don’t know when to quit—even after death. Well then, I guess if the Goddess would have it so, there’s nothing we can do.”

“But what about us?” Preston shouted. “The deal we had?”

“There is no deal, don’t you see? If she would have you, then by all means, I wish you a happily ever after. But it seems she hates you as much as you hate yourself,” Darla, Queen Lovie’s attendant, snapped. “And the witches have nothing to do with that.”

Maria’s grip failed, and Alice came bouncing to her feet as she ran away. Now the playing field was unequally matched. The newborns, in the meantime, were slaughtered by the Cullens and friends, it was just Maria and Preston on the opposing side. 

“It’s over,” you said. “You lost. Accept it, and move on. Life isn’t over, Preston. You have centuries to change your ways.”

He hung his head, fists curled at his side. He lunged.

You held him in mid-air. Your meeting with your mother completely empowered you. You were not some scared little girl. He did not own you, and he never would.

“I could kill you. Nobody would ever miss you. Nobody would ever care. But your life is not mine to claim. Every creature is subject to the wrath of nature, and you will meet that same fate.”

He shuddered violently before his eyes transformed from its vibrant crimson to their river gray. His brilliant pale skin became darker and darker until it was naturally tan, and the inhuman strength once residing within him gradually drained away.

“What. . .what did you do to me?”

“I made you human,” you explained. “To reflect on your actions. No matter what, if a vampire ever tries to turn you, not only will you die, but they will die too. You’re going to spend the next seventy or so years of your human existence regretting ever threatening my family. Since you blame Jasper so much for your vampiric life, you can thank him for delivering you back out into your second human life.”

He fell to the ground, coughing at the sudden impact. Maria’s wild eyes flashed at you, weighing her options. But you knew and she knew; she couldn’t get away.

“But you, bitch, I’m sending you straight to hell.”

When it was over, everybody rushed to their loved ones, throwing their arms around them, holding them close. The emotions were too much, you cried into Jasper’s chest as he cradled you. You refused to put him through the pain of killing two of the closest people in his life. Yes, the Major would relish in their deaths, but Jasper—your Jasper would feel their pain. He would never be the same.

He didn’t have to say anything, but he professed his love for you as he held you quietly in the midst of the celebration. You were finally together, obstructed by no one or nothing. He reciprocated your emotions which multiplied twice as much, which then came back to you once again. It was a never-ending cycle of love and joy, you felt high off of it.

“She really is the most powerful witch there is,” Zacarias said, breathlessly. “Her mother passed on her powers. She. . .teach me for crying out loud!”

Your mom, Carmine, wrapped you and Jasper both in her strong embrace. You didn’t feel the loss of a mother, but the addition of another. One to watch you on Earth and another to watch you in heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the truth is, fight scenes are absolutely iMpOsSiBlE for me to write. I hope I didn't disappoint you too much.
> 
> Btw, smut is in the next chapter. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	9. Not so far-fetched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is smut, if that triggers anyone. Also some fluff and a little angst but I literally bReAtHe for that.

The wedding was absolutely perfect. Of course, Alice designed the entire affair, everybody else but you and Jasper a slave to her incessant ordering.

You got married on a sunny day back in the country, just a few miles Jasper’s old home town which was nestled far out into secluded woods with a grand, wooden barn and southern mansion nearby a quiet stream

Your dress was sleeveless and made of immaculate white silk that trailed behind you in the rose petal walkway to your groom, standing under a flower arch of candles and flowers. Alice, Rosalie, and Amelia were your bridesmaids—and Ivy, though she whined and cried from home—was not invited.

And when the wedding was over, Jasper flew you out to Havana where a pastel yellow house waited on the shoes of the beach. Little antique cars zoomed past on the streets, people danced in skimpy swimsuits, lovers toured the old buildings, hands entwined.

But you weren’t even interested in all of that. That was second priority. All you wanted was to be underneath the man you’d been lusting for over two years now. And he seemed to sense your urgency, for he immediately rushed the both of you to your villa without any side trips or excursions.

He got busy taking care of the luggage and dealing with the house attendants as they stocked the kitchen with food. Meanwhile, you made a nest of the bathroom. 

Dropping your suitcase on the tiled floor, you laid out all your supplies and filled the tub with bubbles and hot water. Alice and Rosalie had packed an “essential” bag of lingerie, but you thought it would be best to save it for later. Tonight, there would be no lace or fancy ribbons. You would be yourself, and you would reveal yourself to your husband just like you shamefully imagined yourself doing before. 

You opened the french style bathroom doors and stepped into the humid room. The ceiling fan whirred uselessly overhead, creating more noise than comfort, adding only to your anxiety and nervousness. You tightened your arms around your waist and moved forward.

Jasper was on the other side of the room staring out over the balcony. The moon shone down on his wavy hair, creating a silvery effect that slowly faded into the warm candlelight of the bedroom. 

When he turned around, you were already tugging at the ties of your robe. The candles flickered and in a heartbeat, he was standing in front of you, his icy breath on your lips. He lowered your hands and began undoing the fabric himself.

To his delight, there was nothing underneath. It was silent as he took in your bare form, his piercing gaze sweeping over the hills of your breast, the curvature of your hips and thighs. Never before had you felt so exposed, so completely and utterly vulnerable and especially nervous.

What if you did something wrong? What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if you accidentally humiliated yourself?

“Y/N,” he hummed, putting his hands on the top of your shoulders. “I can feel everything you feel. And, you’re worried. I won’t go any further until you tell me you’re ready. We can stop now, and I won’t touch you like that at all, if that’s what you want. I just want you to be okay.”

You bit your lip but vehemently shook your head. Of course you were nervous. It was your wedding night. To not feel anything at all was a sign of trouble. 

But you wanted him. Your feeling of desire overwhelmed any sense of anxiousness, and it made you breathless with how tangible it all seemed. It was often you could lay awake at night and think of being with him. With seven other vampires around, your every move was heard and monitored even if they didn’t intend to invade your privacy. And Jasper sat on the edge of your bed as you slept, too traditional to venture under the covers most of the time. The want had been building and boiling inside of you, waiting to be unleashed.

“I want you,” you whimpered. “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Gracefully, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to the canopied bed where he had already rearranged the pillows at least twice. 

Perhaps, you thought, he was nervous too.

But before you could contemplate this theory any longer, his eyes dropped dangerously to the apex of your thighs where your arousal had obscenely gathered. He licked his lips and cradled your hips with his strong arms. 

“Fuck, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since you walked down that aisle,” he declared, admiring your writhing regions in his deepest drawl yet. It was funny, the more excited Jasper became, the thicker his accent became. 

Before he continued, however, he began by kissing every inch of your skin. He started from the vein just behind your left ear before making his way down the crevice of your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, slowly and teasingly trailing down to the place you really wanted him to be.

But once he made it to your pelvic bone, he placed your legs over his shoulders, a smirk on his face. You’re sure you were wide-eyed, your features twisted into a blissful grimace of unfulfilled need and throbbing ache.

He delved his tongue into your folds, sucking and kissing hungrily like a predator bearing down on its prey. His eyes darkened into a shade of burnt umber. It must’ve been so tempting to be that close to all those vital vessels and not give in to the burning instinct to drink you dry. Instead, he channeled all of that desire and yearning into eating your pussy like a starved man.  
“Jasper,” you screamed, “Oh god, I—you’re so—it’s so—”

“You’re feeling everything I’m feeling,” he admitted, ripping through the buttons of his shirt. “And everything I’m feeling is you.”

You understood. It was a continual, never-ending loop of love and pleasure that he had shared with you. This was exaltation, better than any human drug or stimulant. It was just you and your husband making love for the first time, consummating your marriage as countless other lovers had done before but infinitely different and unique.

“I can’t take it anymore! Please, just do it! I want you inside me so badly, Jas,” you hyperventilated as you assisted him as he undid his belt and zipper, the rest of his offensive attire falling to the floor. Now there was nothing standing in between you and your man.

“Patience, darlin’,” he hummed, pushing you up against the headboard in a way that did not seem so patient in itself. By this point, your vision was beginning to go white from the sheer excitement, and in that moment, you hated him for deriving you from the immediate pleasure. He was taking his time, savoring the image of your desperate expressions in his photographic mind.

He pressed his cock unto your clit, rubbing tiny little circles with the tip of his dick—only contributing to your frustration and utter annoyance. 

“Just do it, please! I want you to fucking ruin me.”

His eyes widened. “My baby girl has a dirty mouth, doesn’t she? I’ll have to deal with that later, but since you asked so nicely—”

He thrust into you suddenly, knocking the air sensuously from your lungs. Your fingers crept up to his hair, grabbing a palmful to yank and hold on to. The pain was noticeable, but somehow you suspected he had lessened the intensity by using his ability. He stilled inside you, brushing his lips against yours as he waited.

“Are you ready?” he asked after a while.

“Yes.”

He began moving, his thrusts deep but firm as he pinned you down in the warm candlelight. The lewd sounds of your bodies meeting brought heat to your cheeks. It was so delicious and utterly filthy that tears accumulated in your eyes. He uttered a string of curses in your ear, quiet and intended only for you. 

“This sopping pussy, so wet. So sweet. You want me to fix for ya, darlin’? Does it feel good when I’m stroking you like this?”

It was so startling and unlike what you imagined. Jasper had always been the quiet Cullen, the one who never spoke unless spoken to. Even in your relationship, he opted to listen to your voice rather than lead the conversation. It was something you thought would carry over into his bedroom tendencies. But here he was, spitting naughty, dangerous words to you, unabashedly and so god damn sexy. 

His pace changed. Now it was fast and shallow. You looked down to where your bodies connected, your arousal dripping down onto the cotton sheets and shining against his lower half. You cried into his throat, trying to hide your face.

“No, Y/N,” he commanded, “Look at me. Look at what I’m doing to you. I want to watch you cum for me. Look into my eyes.”

You did as he said, and it was utterly too much. He growled as you came undone underneath the sheets. His seed, slightly warm, gushed inside you, feeling your womb with his love. Your tongues clashed together as he bared his hands on the mattress and hunched over you.

You laid together in the romantic darkness, your head relaxed against his chest. You could hear cars honking in the streets, music floating up from the partying crowds below. It was so tranquil and perfect that if a hurricane blew over the island in that instant, you truly believed you wouldn’t care. All the while, his breathing slowed in your ear—not out of necessity—but from pure leisure.

“I can’t believe,” you started before taking a deep breath and starting over, “I can’t believe you waited over a century and a half to be with me. With someone you never met. I feel like I’ve robbed you years of laughter and joy when you should have been out living your life. If I had been there, then Maria wouldn’t have. . .she wouldn’t have—”

He sat up suddenly, bringing you with him against the headboard. 

“All of it, all of the years of waiting and suffering—every painful moment of it was worth it. It groomed me to become the man I am now. I used to be cold, unsympathetic, and callous. I had a backward ideology and knew not how to love another person for I could not even love myself.” he placed his large hand over yours, brushing the iridescent diamond band glimmering colorfully in the candlelight.

“But Carlisle and Esme, all of my adopted siblings—they taught me to cherish myself, even in spite of all my flaws. They never gave up on me when I struggled with my thirst, and they never judged me for the life I used to have. Little did I know, you had made your second arrival in the world not long after. I was learning to love, and well, you were learning to live.”

“The way your mother looks at you, Y/N, it’s a look of pure love and adoration. I decided then when I first sat at your dinner table that I would never let anything happen to that bond. I would protect you with my life. You were the final piece to my heart, darlin’. I had learned to love myself, but I didn’t trust myself. It wasn’t until you realized I was capable of loving others, that I could control myself enough around people.”

You didn’t realize you were crying but you were. Tears streamed down your face, some rolling down your cheeks and others falling unto his skin. 

“I don’t care what Edward believes. You are capable of loving in any way you choose; as a friend, as a brother, as a son—”

“As a husband?”

You smiled. “Yes. And, maybe, if you wanted—as a father.”

He froze, his golden eyes widened in surprise. “You mean. . .you want to adopt?”

“We could if we wanted,” you whispered quietly. “But Ava told me something about witches, something I thought you should know.”

He nodded, beckoning you to continue.

“Witches can have children with humans, vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters. Because of our magic, it is immediately passed on to the offspring so that the children automatically retain human characteristics until they are old enough to learn what they are. And as for me, as long as I choose, I will never age. Of course, if we do have children, then I might need to create an illusion to change my appearance a little so people won’t be sus—”

He pulled you to his lips, and once again the two of you were reunited. It felt warm in his arms. Safe. 

“I would be honored,” he answered breathlessly. “Perhaps that dream of our farm life isn’t too far-fetched at all.”

“Oh no, it’s totally far-fetched,” you cried, laughing. “Yes, I grew up in Alabama. Yes, we’re southerners at heart. But I do not want to smell like cattle and chase chickens around for all of eternity. Maybe let’s just get a summer farm and we can have people to maintain while we’re gone.”

He shook his head, laughing, as you cradled his chin in your hand. 

“We’ll need a big house for the farm I plan to create with you, Mrs. Whitlock,” he drawled seductively, grabbing your hand by the wrist and bringing it slowly to his chest. 

You moved him so that you were on top, straddling him, the sheets pooling at your waist. 

“Well then, cowboy, we’d better get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this. I intend on making little blurbs with them, sometime in the future. My tumblr is gonju_juice, and if you could send ideas for the drabbles and whatnot, that would be cOoLiO.


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